


lovefool

by sinisterkids (400lux)



Category: iKON (Kpop)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 22:45:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3954694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/400lux/pseuds/sinisterkids
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Effective communication is an important part of any friendship, but it takes a while for Junhwe to figure out that’s not all he wants.</p><p>high school!au. (<a href="http://sinisterkids.livejournal.com/20180.html">lj mirror</a>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	lovefool

White puffs of cloud hang suspended in the sky above, Junhwe is 100% sure he’s going to fail the pop-quiz in the next lesson, and Donghyuk is not talking to him _again_. These are all things Junhwe can say for a fact.

He lounges on the side of the hill, hidden from the rest of the school grounds, and props his right leg on his left thigh, staring up at the sky. At this time, halfway through lunch, Donghyuk usually meets him, but he’s a no-show, just as Junhwe expected. He’s not sure what he did to upset Donghyuk this time, but it’s probably trivial.

Junhwe leans his head on his palms, whistling through pursed lips. A random melody, resembling something Mozart or Beethoven they learnt in Music the other day. Junhwe doesn’t pay much attention in class, not when he can just bug Donghyuk until he's bristled enough to shove his notes into Junhwe's awaiting hands.

The bell rings, shrilly cutting through his nonsensical contemplations. Junhwe sits up, shaking stray pieces of grass off his back. He checks his hair in his phone screen, flicking his fringe so it sits the way he wants it to, and meanders his way back to class.

Donghyuk glances up from his desk in the front row when Junhwe walks in. He tries to act nonchalant, but ends up dropping the pen he was twirling between his fingers. It clatters to the floor and Junhwe’s mouth quirks.

Well. Whatever it is, Donghyuk will forget about it in a day and go back to being Junhwe’s favourite acquaintance and homework resource again. This is also something Junhwe can say for a fact, because it happens every single time without fail.

 

-

 

Five days later, and still no word from Donghyuk. Junhwe is starting to suspect Donghyuk is legitimately mad at him and he’s at a loss of what to do.

Their relationship hasn’t always been like this. When Junhwe moved here, he wanted nothing to do with anyone and was set on getting himself expelled, whatever it took. He played up the teenage delinquent image and tried to look as brooding as possible.

“You don’t really smoke those, do you?” Donghyuk had asked Junhwe, on his first day. He pointed to the outline of the packet of cigarettes in Junhwe’s pocket.

Junhwe had grinned, “What’s it to you?”

“I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on you today, and as the Student President, I can’t allow such a blatant dismissal of the rules.” Donghyuk said, with as much conviction as he could muster, and crossed his arms. Maybe if Donghyuk stopped speaking with all those big, obnoxious words, Junhwe would like him more.

It didn’t help that Donghyuk was assigned to be his buddy during his first week and didn’t let him out of his sight once during that time, thereby stifling any plans Junhwe had to make a nuisance of himself, _including_ the cigarettes. He ended up binning the things, only because he couldn’t stand the way Donghyuk eyed him in distaste for the rest of the day, nose upturned like he could smell the crude smoke that wasn’t even there.

 

-

 

Friday sees Junhwe sitting alone in the cafeteria at lunch-time. Bobby calls him over to eat with them, but Junhwe takes one look at Donghyuk and balks, shaking his head in a refusal. He feels like he's being watched by everyone when he takes a seat at an empty table. He doesn't care though, really.

After they met, Donghyuk had been annoyingly persistent in wanting to befriend him. He was used to getting his way and Junhwe acquiesced, however unwillingly. Donghyuk's way of being nice to anyone and everyone was infuriating still, but Junhwe didn't mind the companionship.

Junhwe doesn't like to be alone. But he's here, picking at his lunch by himself, feeling somewhat vindictive that Donghyuk gets to be mad at him and keep all their friends while Junhwe's shunned to the side. The thought makes him want to heave and then never, ever apologise to Donghyuk.

But he sneaks one glance at Donghyuk, laughing at something Yunhyung's said, and changes his mind. He just wants to be Donghyuk's friend again and if that means losing some of his pride, he'll concede.

 

-

 

The first time Donghyuk gave Junhwe the silent treatment, Junhwe had landed them both in detention. His plans to get expelled went wayward and Donghyuk had been collateral damage per se.

"What are you doing?" Donghyuk had hissed.

Junhwe's stomach sunk in dread and his head whipped around to see Donghyuk peeking around the corner, eagle eyes on the hand Junhwe had on the lever of the fire alarm. He vividly remembers thinking, _fuck it_. A witness would only help his cause.

"None of your beeswax," Junhwe said, aloof. He pulled down the handle without hesitation, before Donghyuk could even thwart him, revelling in the immediate wailing of sirens throughout the building.

As it turns out, the incident didn't get him expelled. Some apologetic pleading and the promise of grounding from his parents got him off mostly scot-free—but what's a detention to expulsion?—unfortunately.

A teacher sprung both Junhwe and Donghyuk at the crime scene. Donghyuk held his tongue when they were both shuffled into the principal's office. Junhwe could tell by the pink of his cheeks and the anxious tapping of his foot that he badly wanted to squeal.

"I expected better from you, Donghyuk," The principal said, disappointment thick in his voice. "Not this, aiding and abetting a violation of the school rules." Donghyuk stared holes into his shoes and didn't say a word, accepting the unfair accusation.

Junhwe felt guilty, but not enough to tell the truth. It was Donghyuk's fault for following him out of class, anyway.

Still, in a moment of aberrance, he apologised. "I'm sorry," Junhwe had said, once he gathered all the remorse in his body into redeeming himself. He twisted in his chair to look back at Donghyuk in detention. He’d been glaring at the back of Junhwe’s head, faltering for a second before hastily looking down at the desk. He didn't acknowledge Junhwe's statement, so Junhwe tried again. "Donghyuk, I'm really sorry."

Finally, Donghyuk had given him a small nod. Junhwe continued, "You didn't have to take some of the blame, y'know. I wouldn't have held it against you."

Donghyuk lifted his shoulders in a shrug. He didn't look Junhwe in the eye. "Just felt like it."

Junhwe stared incredulously. He _felt_ like it? Junhwe didn't understand, but he managed to garner Donghyuk's begrudging forgiveness the next day and that was really all that mattered.

 

-

 

For such a popular kid, Donghyuk's not too close with anyone. He's sociable, sure; literally liked and admired by everybody, but with this default barrier, an untouchable emotional plane. This realisation occurs to Junhwe when he wonders who he should go to for advice about making it up to Donghyuk. Then, he realises what a silly idea it is, when _he_ probably knows the answer to his own query. In concluding this, Junhwe is pleased to note that he's Donghyuk's closest friend and confidante.

Probably why Hanbin grills him about making up with Donghyuk, if not for their friendship but for the sake of their debating team ("Finals are in _two_ weeks. Whatever personal shit you've got going on between you, don't let it interfere with the team. You're our best pair." His voice then softens, "And hey, apologise. I know it hurts you too."

Junhwe wants to protest—why is it always _his_ fault?—but he knows Hanbin's right.)

Practice sucks. Donghyuk gives him the cold shoulder until it's their turn and then he's on fire, leaving Junhwe struggling in the wake of his trailblaze. He blanks out and forgets why abortion should be legalised, feeling Hanbin's critical gaze on him the entire time, and thinks, _why me?_ It was Donghyuk who roped him into the debating society, and just because their obstinate chemistry works wonders, doesn't mean Junhwe wants to be here when Donghyuk won't even look him in the eye.

Afterwards, he chickens out of approaching Donghyuk _again_. C'mon. Junhwe's stronger than this and Donghyuk's about as harmless and exasperatingly adorable as Bobby attempting to woo the captain of one of the opposing teams, Kim Jinhwan whenever they’re up against them (not that Junhwe would ever admit to thinking this). Junhwe doesn't know why he wants to sink into the ground every time Donghyuk glances his way. A voice in the deepest crevices of his mind might even go as far as to call it a _crush_. But, no. Junhwe is above all pitiful things like feelings.

He'll try again when he gets a hold of himself.

 

-

 

Junhwe is settling into bed when he receives a call from Bobby. He groans, rolling over to answer his phone. “Hello?”

“Come get Donghyuk,” Bobby says, his words slurred.

“Excuse me?” Junhwe sits up, frowning at his phone.

“We weren’t gonna bring him tonight, but he insisted. Poor fucker got himself piss-drunk and he keeps asking for you,” explains Bobby.

The only time Donghyuk had ever gotten drunk was with Junhwe, himself. They'd been messing around at Junhwe's place and decided to raid the alcohol collection. It wasn't exactly eventful for their first time. They sat cross-legged on Junhwe's bedroom floor and played _Never Have I Ever_. When that proved to be useless, because between them they'd done about two scandalous things (Donghyuk once cheated on a calculus test, and Junhwe accidentally spilt coffee on Hanbin's lyrics; to this day Hanbin has no idea why his notebook is now an antiquated sepia), they just ended up taking turns sipping a bottle of whiskey and pondering life.

The next morning, they woke up with entangled limbs and the first and worst hangovers of their youth, and haven't spoken of the incident since.

Junhwe doesn't understand why Donghyuk would be so stupid. This isn't like him. What could have motivated him to go to a bar, as a guileless minor and drink his face off with no apparent transport other than the very disgruntled friend he's not even speaking to at the moment? Beats Junhwe.

He puts on his sneakers—t-shirt and sweatpants appropriate enough attire, he surmises—and sneaks through the dark house. Wouldn't be his first time unlocking the door in practiced silence and disappearing into the night.

The bar isn't much of a walk from Junhwe's house. He's grown so used to the humble perks of small town living now, that he doesn't know how he'd ever be able to return to Seoul. Getting in isn't much of a hassle and once inside, Junhwe scans the area for Bobby, Donghyuk or any other familiar face.

He hears Donghyuk before he sees him. A soft cry, and Junhwe turns to see a young man sidling up to Donghyuk, the latter visibly uncomfortable with the situation.

Junhwe can't say much of what happens after that; all a livid blur of unadulterated rage and a channel in the form of douche-bags who can't learn to take a _no_. It takes Bobby, Jinhwan and security to pull him back but by then Junhwe’s already going to be in deep shit with his parents. He should start preparing his bedroom for optimum incarcerated comfort now. He doesn't regret a thing though, except for not being there with Donghyuk in the first place.

Donghyuk's drunk and Junhwe's hurt and pissed-off, but they manage to make it to Donghyuk's house, propping each other up as they walk through the quiet back-roads. The walk home sobers Donghyuk up enough not to make a ruckus breaking in. Junhwe idles at the front door, unsure as to whether he has an invitation, until Donghyuk takes his hand and shuts the door behind him. Junhwe winces when Donghyuk's fingers brush against his grazed knuckles.

"You're hurt," Donghyuk states, bluntly.

"Yeah," replies Junhwe. The first word he says to Donghyuk in weeks and it's _yeah_. Nice going.

He follows Donghyuk upstairs. Instead of taking the left turn to his bedroom, Donghyuk steers them right, toward the bathroom. He pushes Junhwe in before him and tells him to sit on the counter. Junhwe leans against it, watching as Donghyuk rummages through a cupboard to pull out antiseptic and bandages. Donghyuk doesn't say a word while he fixes Junhwe up, all gentle touches and shallow breathing.

"Hurts, asshole." Junhwe grimaces when Donghyuk reaches up to dab at the scab on Junhwe's cheekbone. He turns away, mostly because he doesn't want to end up staring at Donghyuk's face. The dim, shadowy lighting is making this ten times more awkward. He chances a peek though. Donghyuk's frowning hard and the tip of his tongue pokes out in concentration, yet his hands are still jittery with leftover inebriation.

Junhwe tries to remember why Donghyuk is annoyed at him, but he comes up short. Everything that happened in the last few weeks had been inconsequential, right? Not to Donghyuk, apparently.

He leaves once Donghyuk's patched him up. Donghyuk passes out on his bed after Junhwe manages to convince him out of his clothes and into his matching flannel pyjamas. Junhwe walks home with his battered hands shoved deep into his pockets and a heavy heart beneath his ribcage. Sulkily kicking pebbles on the sidewalk, he does his best not to think about Donghyuk, despite the fact that he's all he ever thinks about these days.

 

-

 

On Monday, Junhwe enters English class, the bandages on his knuckles feeling like lead weights. So, now he's really a delinquent. The label isn't as tasteful now that it's true.

Junhwe takes his seat behind Donghyuk's and next to the window. Donghyuk has all his piercings in today, silver along the pale arc of his ear. Junhwe tries to catch a glance at Donghyuk's hand. His lips curve in the smallest of smiles when he sees Donghyuk has his friendship ring on.

They'll be fine, Junhwe tells himself. It's a constant mantra in his head now, but it's been three weeks and even he can admit to himself now that he misses Donghyuk. His way of getting under Junhwe's skin, antagonising him and laughing it off when Junhwe gets tetchy and snipes at him. His way of letting Junhwe in on a secret, holding him to every word like he's the only person he's told it to. Junhwe could write a list, he misses it all. Honestly, he's becoming Hanbin-hyung.

Junhwe zones out during class, doodling circles into his exercise book and staring out at the sky in deep contemplation, involving an in-depth analysis of the shapes of clouds. It takes a disjointed moment for him to register the teacher calling out his name, but by then it's too late for him to even think over the question he's being asked without looking like a fool. The teacher repeats it again, when Junhwe blinks in confusion despite himself, "How many feet does iambic pentameter use?"

Junhwe's eyebrows furrow. He glances at the back of Donghyuk's chair as he tries to remember the answer. A hand reaches around the chair; Donghyuk has quickly scrawled on his palm: _5._ Junhwe says this, breathing a sigh of relief when the teacher moves on.

Afterwards, Donghyuk doesn't acknowledge his saving of Junhwe's ass—but then, what's new in school—and bolts out of the room immediately. Well. At least he's become more lenient in his denial of Junhwe's existence. Junhwe knew he could wear him down. Unfortunately, it doesn't negate the fact that Junhwe still has no idea what he's done.

 

-

 

A tune by Linkin Park—Junhwe was a late bloomer when it came to the adolescent punk rock phase—filters through the shoddy speakers of Junhwe's worn-out stereo as he does his homework, chewing on the end of his pencil and tapping a finger against his left thigh. The light of sunset is mellow through the curtains and his mother's calling him downstairs for dinner by the time Junhwe has run through his notes.

His mother places a container of freshly-baked goods on the table in front of Junhwe before he can excuse himself. "Junhwe, be a dear and drop these off at Donghyuk's place." Junhwe feels a sense of apprehension rising in his throat, but he swallows it back. He expected this. Donghyuk's mum and his are chummy, and so are their sons, most of the time.

Junhwe nods. He puts on his sneakers and takes the short walk to Donghyuk's house, only a few blocks down from his. He rocks back and forth on his heels after ringing the doorbell. No one answers. He checks the door handle and it clicks open, swinging into the house.

"Hello?" Junhwe calls out, to radio silence. He's been here so many times that he has no qualms about taking off his shoes and entering the house to investigate further. Junhwe leaves the food on the kitchen counter and pads up the stairs. "Donghyuk?"

He hears a shuffle, a gasp and something crashing to the ground inside Donghyuk's room.

" _Fuck_ ," Donghyuk lets slip. He should really start checking the front door is locked when he goes about jerking one off, Junhwe thinks, with a stifled chuckle. Junhwe's been the victim of one too many voyeuristic incidences.

"Decent?"

"Come in," Donghyuk says, sounding more composed.

Junhwe turns the handle and enters the room, willing his eyes not to wander straight to Donghyuk's crotch. By the laws of the universe, they end up doing just that. Donghyuk coughs. Junhwe looks up.

"Sooo," Donghyuk says. "What's up?"

"I—uh." Why is Junhwe's mind just mush right now? It's just Donghyuk... just Donghyuk. "Mum wanted me to drop off some food. So, uh, I guess I should go." Junhwe turns to escape, barely making it to the staircase when he hears Donghyuk calling out _wait_. He screeches to a halt.

"Hey, can you just stay? For a bit?" Donghyuk asks, grabbing Junhwe's wrist. Junhwe can feel the cool of his rings against his skin.

 _Why_ , Junhwe wants to ask. Instead he says, "Okay," and follows Donghyuk back into his room. Maybe this is the chance he's been waiting for. He didn't even mean to seek it out, but it’s here, being unceremoniously shoved in his face. How characteristic of Donghyuk.

If this were a movie, Donghyuk wouldn't have willed his erection down but instead agreed when Junhwe asked him if he needed a hand. Obviously Junhwe has a refined taste in cinematography (and clicks accept on the _Are you 18?_ button too many times for someone who isn't eighteen). But no, if this were a movie, Junhwe would apologise and Donghyuk would confess his undying love for him, inciting Junhwe to finally accept his feelings, capitalised with inverted commas, and they'd kiss and live happily ever after.

But this isn't a movie, and so Junhwe sits on Donghyuk's desk chair and twiddles his thumbs. They play a game of who can keep silent the longest, and Junhwe wins, only because Donghyuk can't keep his mouth shut for longer than 1.34379 minutes (Junhwe has timed this).

"How have you been?” he asks.

Junhwe doesn’t know how to answer this. Since when did they make small talk? Instead, he blurts out, “Why are you ignoring me?”

Donghyuk rubs the nape of his neck, giving Junhwe a dour look. “You should know.”

Junhwe’s jaw sets. What is Donghyuk going to say next? That he has to find his inner Zen and search within himself to find the answer? Effective communication is an important part of friendship!

“Tell me,” Junhwe tries.

Donghyuk shakes his head. “Figure it out yourself.”

“Quit playing games,” Junhwe grits out.

Donghyuk just lets out a world-weary sigh. “You know, you care more than you think you do.”

“I—that’s ridiculous.”

Donghyuk continues, like some kind of omniscient being, “You’re not some detached bad-boy type, either. Remember that time you made me take the train with you to the nearest department store to find that perfume your mother secretly wanted. Or that time you snuck a fake confession note from Hanbin into Yunhyung’s backpack so they’d get together. Or that time—”

“Okay!” Junhwe cuts Donghyuk off. “Your point?” The tips of his ears are red. He doesn’t need the list of uncharacteristic kind things he’s done being recited back to him.

Donghyuk looks away for a second like he’s forgotten what his point is. Junhwe sees him take a deep breath. “Can’t you just—I don’t know. Believe in yourself, for once?”

Believe in himself. If he chanted it three times, maybe Junhwe would finally understand the enigma that is Donghyuk and his labyrinth of a mind, and everything would go back to normal.

Except, Junhwe doesn’t want it to go back to _normal_. Normal just doesn’t feel right.

 

-

 

The first time Junhwe thinks he might like Donghyuk is during one of their many rendezvous on the side of the hill in the schoolyard. Junhwe had lost count by then.

He’d been lying on his stomach, fiddling with his music player and peeking over the top of the hill. He could see Donghyuk walking towards him, his head gradually popping up like the sun on the horizon until he reached Junhwe. From this vantage point, Junhwe could see up Donghyuk’s shirt—where it had been billowing out from his slacks in the soft breeze—to the pale, lean lines of his stomach. Donghyuk shot him a beatific smile and dropped down cross-legged on the peak of the hill.

They just sat in silence for a while, Donghyuk twirling the wire of Junhwe’s earphones with a finger and picking an EXO song for him (he probably even put it on Junhwe’s iPod), till Donghyuk got restless and swung his legs around to lay opposite Junhwe, stealing one of his earbuds in one quick motion.

Junhwe thought this was strangely cute, in an I-wouldn’t-mind-Eskimo-kissing-you-and-holding-your-hand-as-we-lay-here kind of way. Nevertheless, he wouldn’t have any of it, so he awkwardly avoided making eye contact until Donghyuk challenged him to a thumb war, and then Junhwe _had_ to stand up. He let Donghyuk win two times—or so he’d like to think, Junhwe may be big, but Donghyuk has the muscles—before doing a turnaround and beating him in the last round. Donghyuk groaned good-naturedly, and rolled over onto his back. _Big Jet Plane_ played through the earphones.

“Do you ever wanna get out of here?” Donghyuk whispered, staring up at the bleak sky. “There’s a whole _world_ out there.”

Junhwe took a breath, letting the air sit in his lungs for a moment, before exhaling. “I know you could. You’re destined for great things.” It just about killed him to say it.

Donghyuk hummed. “Maybe. But why do I feel like that’s a comparison?”

Junhwe didn’t mean for it to be but perhaps it was. Sometimes, he desperately wants to be more than the Goo Junhwe he is but it seemed out of reach, a distant dream in the skies.

Donghyuk began to sing along to the tune they were listening to, his delicate voice a balanced contrast to Junhwe’s huskiness. A giddiness filled up Junhwe’s chest. Maybe, he thought, the sky isn’t that far away.

 

-

 

The debating team takes the bus over to the high school they’re rivalling. Junhwe sits in the last row, being jostled around by an enthused Bobby and overall, having the opposite of a good time. He crosses his arms, thumbs tucked beneath his underarms, and blasts music in his ears. Every so often, Junhwe’s eyes wander away from the blur of scenery outside the window to Donghyuk sitting in the front of the bus, jumping from conversation to conversation. Junhwe turns down his music and hears Donghyuk arguing with their coach over the wording of the UN Charter preamble, or something equally nerdy. Junhwe zones him out again in favour of Blink-182, but distantly wishes it was him up there chatting with Donghyuk. It's how they would usually spend these boring, stretched-out bus rides.

Junhwe's phone buzzes. He looks down to see a KKT notification from Hanbin, which reads: _r u & donghyuk ok yet???_ Junhwe gives Hanbin, who'd been craning his neck back to watch his reaction, a sullen look, and types out a response: _working on it_. Hanbin's expression seems to say, _work faster!_ They're short on time and if Junhwe doesn't ignite a spark, so to speak, between him and Donghyuk again, their team's practically screwed. Trust Donghyuk to take on the most complex topic of them all to argue.

"We're here!" Bobby yells out when they arrive. The bus rolls into the car-park of the high school. Their coach shepherds them all into the reception, where they're given the all-clear to take a couple hours break before the competition begins in the evening.

Junhwe's dragged along with the others to a cafe along the main road. He finally understands why Bobby's been considerably more excited than usual when he spots Jinhwan with the rest of his team (is mingling with, and in Bobby's case, dating the enemy even allowed? Isn't there a rule about this somewhere?) seated at a long table inside. He vaguely remembers Jinhwan at the bar that time he went to collect Donghyuk, and puts the pieces together.

By some stroke of fate—or was it misfortune?—Junhwe ends up sitting opposite Donghyuk, knees knocking against his because Junhwe's legs are just that long. He feels someone kick his shin, and he winces, glaring around the table to find the culprit, only to see Hanbin glaring back. He cocks his head at a distracted Donghyuk. Junhwe mouths _help!_ Hanbin does some confusing movements with his hands. Junhwe only recognises a love-heart and wait, why is he doing such crude things with his fingers? He pulls a face at Hanbin, who just shrugs, and shakes his head, picking up the menu. That was completely, utterly unhelpful. Junhwe is on his own here.

Junhwe sucks down the last dregs of his orange juice, hoping the slurping sounds cover up the slurping sounds of Jinhwan and Bobby making out precariously close to him. He shares a look with Donghyuk over his glass. Donghyuk looks too amused at the situation. The nerve. Junhwe just wants to die because he's not any closer to forgiveness. He feels like when that time comes, it's going to be so incredibly anticlimactic that he'll end up punching Donghyuk in the jaw.

 

-

 

The other team puts up a good front that evening. It is the finals though, so the best is only to be expected. It's a good thing Junhwe's team is just as competitive. Donghyuk and Junhwe quietly go over their rebuttal while the opposition speaks, but before their turn is up, Junhwe catches the hem of Donghyuk's cardigan and mouths _I'm sorry_ , with enough sincerity in his eyes that it seems to suffice for the moment. Enough for them to win, at least.

And when they do, Junhwe feels a subdued sort of happiness. Donghyuk squeezes his hand around the group-hug on the middle of the stage, yet doesn't look his way.

They won, but why does Junhwe still feel like he's losing?

 

-

 

Junhwe's not a crier. He's more of the brooding, storm-cloud type. There's a party on at Seungyoon's place that night, held in a show of sportsmanship, and Junhwe spends most of it in a corner, nursing a beer and moping as Donghyuk makes rounds among the guests like a fucking monarch. The People's Princess, or something.

It all comes crashing down when Junhwe's drunk enough to make rash decisions like smoking joints with Taehyun—smoking is not everything it was cracked up to be, Junhwe thinks with a cough—or letting Bobby give him a tramp-stamp—the next day it ends up being henna, thank fuck—and most tragic of all, kissing Donghyuk.

 

-

 

The first time Junhwe realises he wants to be more than just Donghyuk's friend is when Donghyuk comes out to him, a few weeks earlier. As far as Coming Out's go, it was rather spontaneous. Donghyuk roped Junhwe into volunteering for schoolyard clean-up and they spent an afternoon picking up trash with their grabbers. In a dingy alley-way behind the main building, Donghyuk blurted out, "I like guys."

Junhwe had paused, only faltering for a moment before chucking the contents of his bag into the dumpster. He wishes the memory wasn't tainted with the smell of wasted cafeteria food and the sound of ominous buzzing. "Okay. As in you're—?"

Donghyuk finished his question, "Yeah. I'm gay." He said the last bit with a wave of his fingers, a nervous smile on his face.

"Cool. Me too." Junhwe said, taking the opportunity while it was before him. He sounded casual but his hands shook underneath his latex gloves.

"Oh—" Donghyuk replied. Junhwe didn't catch his expression of surprise. "Oh. Nice." It was a one-word kind of day. "I like someone."

Now that didn't sit right with Junhwe. He glanced up when Donghyuk looked elsewhere, the two completely out-of-sync with each other. The coil of anxiousness already in his stomach from what he'd just confessed had tightened. Call him jealous, but he didn't like the idea of Donghyuk liking someone else, when he had Junhwe, who was more than enough. Besides, platonic love knows no bounds while romance comes with endless angst and heartbreak, right?

Junhwe admits now, he was kind of a fool for not picking up the signs sooner, but then Donghyuk hadn't been any better. Especially when Junhwe outright admitted, "I think I like someone too," while looking straight at a flushed Donghyuk. They'd both been grade A idiots.

 

-

 

All the pent-up frustration and teenage angst inside Junhwe eventually boils down to him cornering Donghyuk when they pass each other in a fairly empty corridor of the house, and demanding some answers. Donghyuk just crosses his arms defiantly and shakes his head, and Junhwe's just about had it up to here with the jerk. He grabs Donghyuk by his collar and pulls him in for a sloppy, unrestrained kiss. Junhwe's neck is flushed red, visible all the way down his chest when Donghyuk grapples for purchase in his t-shirt, and his limbs are all sluggish but boy, does this feel good. Donghyuk's a good kisser (or at least, Junhwe thinks; he doesn't have much experience by way of this), with the way he eases Junhwe into it so their noses aren't getting in the way as much and their teeth aren't painfully clacking together.

Junhwe's breathing heavy through his nose, but the moment in which he pulls away for a gulp of oxygen, Donghyuk’s hand comes up to weave itself in Junhwe’s hair, making it easier for him to guide the kiss into the French variety. Donghyuk's tongue feels wet and warm against his own, as most tongues would. Donghyuk's now pulling him in by his belt loops, so their hips are pressed close together and Junhwe's just about questioning every single one of his life choices for not doing this sooner.

They make out for what feels like forever, and maybe it is because fuck, if Junhwe ever wants to stop this. Donghyuk bites down hard on Junhwe's bottom lip, almost like it's his small token of revenge, and he breathlessly laughs when Junhwe whimpers.

Donghyuk pulls away and grins, looking as out of breath as Junhwe feels. "You figured it out, hey?"

Junhwe blinks, still staring at Donghyuk's mouth. "Uh," He says, intelligently, "Right. I'm the one you like?" He looks at Donghyuk expectantly. Does he get a prize for giving the right answer, preferably in the form of his lips and Donghyuk's lips in very close proximity?

"Took you long enough, asshole. Was I just that subtle, or are you really as oblivious as you were playing at?" Ah, Junhwe's missed the sweet caress of Donghyuk's biting snark.

"Maybe I just liked dragging you along all these weeks. Maybe it was my own form of sadism."

Donghyuk's hand wanders up Junhwe's shirt. Junhwe knows him well enough to know it's deliberate. "Does it count as sadism if you're hurting yourself too?"

Junhwe shrugs, "The point is we're here, I'm too drunk to discuss my regrets, and I just really, _really_ want to kiss you again."

Donghyuk smiles—God, Junhwe's missed it—and tugs Junhwe in by the hem of his shirt.

 

-

 

The first time Junhwe realises he's in love with Donghyuk is much, much later, because you know, his emotional constipation and all. Donghyuk says it first, but doesn't seem too bothered when Junhwe doesn't reciprocate the sentiment straight away. They're young, free and reckless, and have all the time in the world for things like love.

As most of Junhwe's life-changing revelations go, the process of falling in love with Donghyuk is gradual and rather uninspiring. He tells Donghyuk he loves him, in college when they end up renting out an apartment together in Seoul. Junhwe's no less grouchy and Donghyuk's no less grating than they were at sixteen, but they complement each other more than they clash. Junhwe still finds himself drawn to Donghyuk’s warmth, like a moth to a flame.

"I love you," Junhwe mumbles into Donghyuk's neck, just as he dozes off to a documentary on mummification. His voice is so quiet that he's afraid Donghyuk doesn't even hear, but moments later, Donghyuk whispers back, "I know," and that's that, Junhwe concludes.

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to akmu's _play_ album for being my inspirational soundtrack.


End file.
